Missing
by sapphire blue-ruby red roses
Summary: Somebody has kidnapped America and Russia's new born twins? We can only imagine what they might do to get them back.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

**Warning: Unedited, and that's it :P Have fun**

Missing

"Alfred," Russia called gently, shaking the man snoring as loudly as a chainsaw at his bedside, "Al, wake up."

His breath hitching, America blinked blurrily up at the mother of his children. "Hey, babe, how do you feel?" he asked, reaching out a hand to take his lover's, "Are you in pain?"

"A little," Russia admitted, smiling a small true smile, "but I'm mostly tired." He thought back, remembering the hours upon of hours of labor, and then finally the birth. "Can… Can I see the twins?"

"Of course!" America moved from the bed to the door, calling out to the nurse down the hall. The nurse replied with a smile, heading for the nursery. "All taken care of. The nurse said she'd have them here in a couple minutes."

"Yes, I heard," Russia replied, leaning back against his pillows. He held out his hand, waiting until it was safely enclosed in America's before letting his eyes slip shut.

The slow, cautious opening of the door had both men's eyes opening to stare expectantly at the man coming through the door. The doctor kept his head down as he spoke. "Mr. Jones, Mr. Braginski, I-I have s-some bad news."

America's hand tightened exponentially around Russia's. "What happened?" the pair growled, their faces set in angry lines. If looks could kill, the doctor surely would have been dead several times over.

"W-well, um, i-it s-seems that your twins were, um… kidnapped," the doctor stuttered, his eyes averted from the pair. He flinched as America began shouting.

"What?!" they shouted angrily in unison.

"How could you have let that happen?" America screeched, bolted to his feet. He started towards the cowering doctor, but Russia stopped him, tugging on his hand.

Russia's aura was the startling lavender of his eyes. He didn't even bother to plaster on his fake smile as he asked menacingly, "Where are my babies?"

"I-I-" The doctor couldn't find his words.

"If you don't find my babies in the next thirty seconds I am going to rip your dick off and shove it down your throat," Russia threatened.

Without replying to the livid mother, the doctor rushed from the room calling, "Tina! Call the police now! We have to find those babies!"

Russia let out a snarl that turned halfway into a sob. He pulled his hand from America's, pushing himself into a sitting position and throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

"Babe, what are you doing?" America asked, cupping his hand around his lover's elbow, "Don't push yourself."

"America, don't tell me what to do or I'll bite off your dick," Russia threatened, then sighed, "I just want to find our babies, and I know the humans won't find them. We have to do it. It's the only way." He groaned as he lowered his feet to the tiles.

"If you're up to it, then let's do it. I'll call Iggy and find out if this has ever happened before," America said, pulling out his phone, "You go ahead and get dressed while I break into the security room."

"Wait for me," Russia called, "I'm coming with you."

"Okay, I'll just be waiting outside." America pulled the door closed gently, but when he pulled his hand away, the handle was crushed. He dialed England's number, just barely keeping himself from crushing the small device. It rang and rang causing his nerves to tighten with each ring. Finally, he heard the voice he'd been searching for.

"What the bloody hell do you want you bloody wanker?" England snapped, "Do you know what time it is here?"

"Who is it, mon l'amour?" France asked, his voice full of sleep.

"Alfred," England replied tersely, "Lad, why aren't you sleeping? What did that Russian bastard do this time?"

America was silent for a long moment. "Ivan gave birth," he told them, deciding to start there.

"Oh, that's great! Is it a boy? A girl?" France asked excitedly. He pulled the Britt onto his chest making it easier for him to hear the conversation.

America pushed down the lump that formed in his throat. "A boy and a girl. Twins like Canada and me." His voice cracked, but he tried to disguise it as a cough. It fooled only one of the men on the other side of the phone.

"That is fantastic! We must celebrate!" France shouted as he jumped from the bed.

"Shut it, frog!" England shouted at the exuberant man, covering the mouth piece with his hand, "Lad, what's the matter?"

"Iggy, they're gone," he whispered.

"Like…" England couldn't bring himself to even finish the thought.

"Somebody kidnapped my fucking children!" he shouted into the receiver, the hysterics finally managing to overcome him, "Iggy, has this ever happened before? Why my children?" He pressed his back against the wall, his head down so his bangs draped in front of his eyes.

England was speechless for several heartbeats, his mouth gaping open. Finally, he found his words. "No, lad, I haven't, but I'll ask around the other nations. I'll call you if I find out anything. Don't worry, we'll find them." He pushed out of bed, pulling on pants as he stood.

"I know, and thanks for helping," America murmured, ending the call. He pushed off the wall, turning around to find Russia shutting the door behind him. His trademark scarf hung loosely around his neck, and his long coat was unbuttoned. "Where are we headed to first?"

"We'll go to the security desk first, like you suggested, and then decide from there," Russia replied, pulling his black leather gloves down over his large hands.

"Fine by me," America said, taking the larger man's hand, and guiding him down the hall.

…..

"What's the matter, mon cheri? Are America and Russia's babies alright?" France asked, entering the bedroom to find his lover staring at his cell in only a pair of pants.

"The twins have been kidnapped," England replied, shoving the cell into his back pocket and hurrying over to the armoire, "We have to go over to the other nations, ask them if this has ever happened. We might have to call a World Meeting." At this point, he was more talking to himself instead of France. He turned, pulling a shirt over his head only to find his lover still naked. "Get dressed, frog! What are you doing?"

"Just admiring how adorable you look when worrying about your grandchildren," he replied, wrapping his arms around the Britt, "Don't worry. We'll, or more those two, will definitely find those babies."

"But we're going to help, so get off of me and get dressed. Unless you want me to go all by my lonesome," England quipped back.

"No, mon l'amour! I'm going!" France cried, bolting for the armoire.

"That's what I thought," England muttered stonily.

…..

"You guys can't be back here," a security guard said as America and Russia came around the security desk. He was old with a severe face that told that he obviously didn't play around. He stood up, blocking their entrance.

Russia glared daggers at him, making the man stagger back. "Sit down, and get out of our way," he growled, pushing past the man to the monitors.

America moved in front of him, his hand pressed to the old man's chest pushing him back into his chair. He moved up to the equipment, rewinding the tapes until he saw two men with their hoods pulled up entering the nursery. The men went up to the nurse at the desk. Her eyes went wide. She shot to her feet, rushing around the desk. She shook the man's hand exuberantly while she gave the other man a timid, vaguely terrified look.

"What is going on? Who are these men?" Russia asked, glancing at the old man.

He shrugged unhelpfully. "I don't deal with the parents."

"These aren't parents," America growled watching as the nurse just slid open the glass door to where they babies were sleeping. She pointed across the room to two clear baskets that were side by side. One held a small bundle wrapped in blue, the other held a similar bundle only in pink.

Russia reached out a hand, touching the screen gently. "Those are our babies," he whispered longingly. His hand fell away as the man hurried over to the pair, pulling the bundles into their arms. They curled into fists at his sides. "I'm going to murder them."

Turning away, America pulled Russia away, swiftly moving towards one of the many exits. They burst into the stairwell, the tapping of their shoes echoing off the cement walls. "Where do you want to go first?" he asked, throwing himself around each turn of the stairs, wanting to reach the parking lot as quickly as possible.

"Wherever your gangs hang out in this damn city."

"Let's get going then. We've got a lot of places to check."

…..

Surprisingly, they didn't have to go very far. Many of the gangs had thought it'd be a good idea to have a "meeting" so most of them were in the same place like a bunch of idiots. That had made it an easy task of finding them.

"Where are our babies?" America yelled in the face of the gang leaders. He held them up against the concrete wall. Russia stood menacingly behind him sending poison tipped daggers towards any of the other gang members who dared step forward to attempt a rescue. He'd already maimed a third of their group.

"Dude, I swear, I don't know! I didn't even know you had children Mr. America! I didn't even know your… um," his eyes flickered to Russia, "-boyfriend? Girlfriend?- was pregnant! Swear on my daughter's life!" one of the men wearing a fedora and Italian suit cried. He was the only leader dressed as he was. His members were dressed similarly.

"You know what I think? I think you're lying," America snarled darkly in the man's face.

"I swore on my daughter's life!" the man shouted back incredulously.

"And I'm missing a daughter **and** a son so I'm not in a very negotiable mood right now."

The men pinned to the wall let out little squeaks of terror as they were pushed farther up the wall. They glared over at the man who had been babbling. Russia was just opening his mouth to suggest a method of torture when the door to the warehouse swung open. "Look you guys, you can't keep calling me over here, I'm not your boss. You're not even the Italian Mafia! You're just another gang in America! The only way you'll actually be the Mafia is if you come back to…" Romano's words trailed off as he glanced up from his papers and took in the scene before him. He was dressed in a tight Italian suit with a fedora pulled low over his brow. Slowly, he removed his hat, setting it and his papers on the table. "So, what's going on here?"

"We're looking for our babies," Russia replied, no semblance of his childish tone in sight. His voice was deep and promised agony to those who crossed him. He glared at the smaller Italian man.

"And I'm gone," Romano said, forgetting his hat and papers as he turned and headed out the door.

"No! Mr. Romano, please!" the men dressed similarly to him cried. The door slammed shut, silencing them.

America turned back to the men. "So where were we?" he asked menacingly.

Romano poked his head through the door. "Oh, America, Russia, don't kill the ones with the fedoras. If they said they didn't do it, they didn't. They're too pussy to lie to you." He disappeared back out the door.

Russia snarled under his breath, slamming his fist into the wall. The concrete shattered under his fist. "I'm going to kill the men who took my babies," he snarled, "Slowly and painfully."

"Then let's get going," America said, dropping the men he held unceremoniously.

…..

"You need to calm down!" America's boss shouted angrily over the phone, "Running around causing havoc is not being a good role model! Get back to the White House now!" Behind him, opaque plumes of smoke swirled into the sky far behind him. Police sirens wailed around the city, never ceasing.

He scowled at his cell, holding it away from his ear. It hadn't taken long for word of their search to spread. Russian stood behind him receiving a similar scolding from his boss. The only difference was the fact that he was arguing back in rapid Russian.

America's phone went silent, and he put it back to his ear. "I'm not coming back," he said, glaring at nothing, "And you're not gonna make me." He sounded like a child, but at that moment he didn't especially care.

"You are-"

His boss was cut off by a woman's crackling to life over a loud speaker. "Please shut off all electronic devices and buckle your seat belts. We will be landing in twenty minutes. Please turn off all electronic devices and buckle your seat belts. Thank you." The voice crackled off.

"America, I have to turn off my phone now, but get to the White House and stay there. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Where are you going?" America shouted. Who was that man to be giving him orders when he wasn't even at the White House? His boss didn't answer as he ended the call. His phone shattered into a million tiny pieces in his fist.

"Argh!" Russia shouted, chucking his phone. It flew down the street, cracking against the asphalt. It slid for a good ten to fifteen feet before it came to a halt. He stared at it for a long moment before walking swiftly to it and snatching it up. He shoved the still working cell into his pocket.

They stared in opposite directions, seething silently. Finally, America spoke up. "My boss wants me to go to the White House and stay there," he muttered.

"Da, mine too. He was on a plane that was just getting ready to land," Russia said, narrowing his eyes at the sky like he'd see the plane flying overhead, and could make it crash.

America frowned. "So was mine. You don't think…" The pair made eye contact. Their mouths dropped open. "That son of a bitch!" they shouted together, though Russia's was in, of course, Russian.

Before they could decide what to do next, Russia's phone started to ring. They stared at his pocket for a long moment. He scrambled for the cell, pressing it to his ear. "Da?" He frowned, holding the cell out to America.

He took it curiously, pressing it to his ear. "Hello?"

"America, you have to get on a plane to my place this instance!" England's frantic voice shouted, "Don't wait! Catch the soonest flight over!"

"Iggy, calm down. Why do we need to head over so soon?" America asked, cutting off England before he could enter a rant.

"Your boss, he called me about thirty minutes ago asking if I was going to be home because he had urgent business that he needed to discuss with me," England replied, slowly calming down. France pulled him into his lap, wrapping gentle arms around his waist.

"What was the urgent business?" America asked, catching Russia's eye.

"I don't know, but I could hear two babies crying in the background, and a woman over a loud speaker," England said, threading his fingers through France's.

"We'll be there as soon as we can," America replied. He hung up and handed the phone back to Russia. Dropping into a crouch, he hung his head between his knees.

"What was he calling about?"

"He thinks our bosses have the twins. They're headed to England right now." America sprung up, grabbing Russia's hand. He took off at a dead sprint, dragging the other man behind him. "We have to catch the next flight to Iggy's place!"

…..

"Mr. England, please, we have to speak with you this moment," America's boss called to the pair standing in the kitchen. They'd already been there for over eight hours, and somehow, England had always diverted the conversation when one of the men at the table had attempted to shift it to business.

Once again, it wasn't any trouble to divert their attention with meaningless chatter. "So, how are your children, sirs? Well, I hope. Doing well in school, no colds."

"No, actually, they're great," America's boss said immediately, grinning. Russia's boss rolled his eyes, already having heard more than his fair share about the other man's children. He turned his attention to the tea and French food that had been set before them. The twins slept soundly in carriers on the couch.

"Boss, you bastard," America shouted, kicking in the door, "Where are our babies?"

"America, Russia," the men at the table cried, jumping from the seats, "What are you doing here?"

In the kitchen, England let out a relieved sigh. America and Russia stormed over to their bosses, glaring them down. "Where did you take our children? We want them back right now," Russia growled, his hands balling into fists at his sides in an attempt not to slug either of their bosses.

"We d-don't know what y-you are talking about," Russia's boss began. He was cut off by twin cried from the living room.

Russia and America glanced at each other, rushing for the room. "There they are," America called, rushing to the carries and pulling the pink bundle into his arms, "They're okay." He nuzzled the little girl's sparse white blonde hair. At her father's touch, she instantly quieted.

Russia picked up the blue bundle, cradling him in his arms. He had the same effect. "Such pretty blonde hair," he murmured, running a hand over the baby's head.

"Ya' did good," America laughed, leaning their arms against each other so the babies were side by side, "Look at them. They're going to be great heroes."

"You did great too," Russia replied, leaning his forehead against the shorter man's. His smile widened as the pair blinked tiredly up at them. They had two different colored eyes, one the lavender of their mother and the other the sky blue of their father's. Instead of having them on the same sides, they were switched. "Oh, look at their eyes!"

"That's awesome!" America said, wriggling happily. Suddenly, his grin fell and a scowl curved down his lips. "Now, on the matter of their kidnappers…" He glanced up to where the pair should have been, but all he was met with was the slamming of the front door.

"Those little…" He started after them, growling under his breath, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Let them run away, they'll have to face us some time," Russia said, a menacingly smile on his lips that slowly softened, "For now, we have two babies to look after. What are we going to call them?"

"Well, can we call the boy Micah and then you can pick the girl's name?" America asked, staring down at the pair in adoration.

"Okay, then the girl will be named Nika," Russia replied.

"I like that."

England leaned a shoulder against the doorway. France sidled up behind him, slipping his hands around the other man's waist. "You two are going to make great parents," England commented.

"Really? You think so?" America asked excitedly, turning to him.

"Definitely," France agreed, dropping his chin down on the top of England's head.

America and Russia grinned at each other. "Definitely," they agreed.

**Well, I hope you enjoyed my crappy one-shot. I'm thinking about doing more with it later, but for now, this is it. Hope you had fun like I did :D Review and tell me how it was, please?**


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